Where There's Tea, There's Hope
by Urocissa Ornata
Summary: Despite Zuko's role in rescuing Hakoda, Katara is still furious with him. When he talks to Aang about it, the two boys realize many important things about their friendship, the women in their lives, and the nature of hope. Kataang and Zuko/Mai.
1. Part 1

Where There's Tea, There's Hope by Urocissa Ornata

_Summary: Despite Zuko's role in rescuing Hakoda, Katara is still furious with him. When he talks to Aang about it, the two boys realize many important things about their friendship, the women in their lives, and the nature of hope._

_[This vignette takes place during Book 3, between Chapter 15: "The Boiling Rock Part 2" and Chapter 16: "The Southern Raiders." To prevent the Wall of Text from killing your eyeballs, I broke it into parts. They're not episodic parts, this story is one really long scene that was meant to be read in one sitting._

_The title was taken from a quote by Arthur W. Pinero. __I don't own __Avatar: The Last Airbender__; I just borrowed the characters for a bit and took them for a spin around the back roads of my imagination. Don't sue me, please; you'll only get pocket lint and gum wrappers for your trouble.__]_

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"And there I stood, Zuko locked in combat with the guard, facing one of the worst things that could have happened to us. We'd been discovered," Sokka explained to his enraptured audience, his voice sending chills down their spines. Storytelling was an art form among the people of the Water Tribes; it provided entertainment during long fishing trips and frigid, polar nights. Sokka gestured to Zuko, who stood six paces away with his lone eyebrow quirked in exasperation. "I had to make a fast decision, and I knew the implications if I decided wrong." He stepped forward dramatically and wrapped his long fingers around one of the fire prince's wrists, and tried to pull him to the ground. However, unlike at the Boiling Rock prison, Zuko didn't feel the need to comply.

Sokka paused in his tale, the drama of the moment shattered, and tugged Zuko's arm with both hands. "Psst," he hissed, his azure eyes narrowed and shifting as he peered around his "captive." "You're supposed to go down, now."

With deliberate, royal delicacy, Zuko extracted his wrist from Sokka's hands. "They get the idea," he said mildly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He stepped off Sokka's "stage," which was really just a few tiles of the Air Temple floor raised up a little by Toph, and folded himself cross-legged next to Teo.

Sokka glowered at the prince and let his irritation hang in the air for a moment. "Drama queen," he muttered, and Zuko huffed in response. Then, with a hefty scoff, Sokka resumed his tale, quickly recruiting Chit Sang to stand in for Zuko. The bigger man was quite willing to comply with Sokka's pantomime. Most everyone was—they were all on a high after the daring rescue of Hakoda and Suki. Gaining another ally, the powerful Firebender Chit Sang, was an added bonus. As Aang said not long after they'd disembarked Azula's airship, not everyone in the Fire Nation needed to be an enemy.

Katara had whipped up a stew for lunch, making sure to use some of her father's favorite spices; those who weren't drafted into Sokka's impromptu play were busy enjoying her delicious cooking. The group was situated in a loose circle around the performers, with Katara nearest the water fountain and her father, kneeling on the stone tiles as she absently stirred the stew, refilled bowls, and ate her own meal.

To be fair, Zuko thought, it _was_ Sokka's plan, and he deserved to revel a bit, especially after the failure of his invasion plan. Zuko knew how that had haunted his new comrade. On top of that, Azula had goaded him about Suki's fate, and Zuko knew better than anyone how well Azula could extract maximum pain—physically and emotionally. She was probably using those skills on Mai now. Zuko couldn't help but cringe at the thought. He kept trying to remind himself that Mai was a capable woman and that her uncle would not let her be harmed by Azula. The Firelord would not allow Azula to execute the daughter of such prominent supporters. Would he?

Mai's fate was such a huge issue that it threatened to swallow him when he thought about it. He kept his memory of her locked in a box in his mind for now. Best to worry about her a little later, when he could open the box and deal with his grief and fear without anyone to see. That was how things were always done in his family; care for another person was considered a sure sign of weakness. With great effort, Zuko kept his attention on the play unfolding in front of him. They were at the part where Sokka realized his father had arrived at the prison.

Zuko had concluded early on in the rescue attempt that Sokka was one of the bravest people he'd ever met. Possibly the most stupid, too, but it was a good kind of stupid. Listening to Sokka's detailed reenactment drove home to the prince how unbelievable it was that they'd pulled it off. The Boiling Rock Prison was notorious in the Fire Nation; it was often used as a threat against whole families to dissuade them from political dissent. From the most remote Fire Nation colony village all the way to the capitol itself, people spoke of the prison in hushed tones, and those with family members locked up there were often shunned by their communities for fear of guilt by association.

Fear of unjust imprisonment was something Zuko hadn't realized was so prevalent among his people until he traveled. He'd just never thought about it, never noticed it. Injustice existed everywhere, but neither the people of the Water Tribes nor the Earth Kingdom lived with such an undercurrent of anxiety and suspicion of their own governments. The Fire Nation, by contrast, was steeped in mistrust. It was something he ached to fix, if the Avatar was ever successful in bringing down his father. And Azula, of course.

So it was a pipe dream, but a good dream nonetheless.

By now, Suki had volunteered to play the warden, showing a zest for performance matched only by Sokka. Zuko had had only brief interaction with the Kyoshi Warriors; he supposed Suki was good at acting because she was used to costume. She twisted and pulled her wiry frame into different postures as she mocked first the warden, then other guards as well. She was a slip of a girl, but he had seen firsthand how she was a powerful warrior; she projected the fearsomeness of the bully prison guards convincingly. Even Hakoda was drafted into a few parts, although his weathered face betrayed fatigue and he seemed content to sit with his daughter.

Zuko watched Katara out of the corner of his undamaged eye, feeling a strange sense of wistfulness as she sat with her father. Anyone would be proud of such a powerful daughter, but to see such tenderness on a parent's face—it reminded Zuko of his mother. Unlike his mother, however, Hakoda had obviously had a powerfully positive influence on both his children, not just one. Zuko's mother always seemed helpless to combat the ruthless tendencies in Azula. Perhaps if the two of them had been brought up in a society that favored love over power, Azula would have turned out a little more like Katara.

He must have been staring more than he thought he was, though, because the next thing Zuko knew, Katara was glaring at him across the pot of stew still bubbling next to her, her hand paused in the act of stirring, her wrist arched gracefully. He blinked and looked at her apologetically, and she turned her face with an obvious snort. Zuko's jaw clenched and unclenched as he felt a sigh escape him. This was getting to be a real problem.

Since joining the Avatar's group, Zuko had tried, and tried hard, to please everyone. He'd done as much work as he possibly could keeping up their camp at the Western Air Temple, cooked and made tea for everyone, and most of all, helped Aang learn Firebending. Zuko had never served people like he served these people—not when he was working in tea shops in the Earth Kingdom, and not when he helped his uncle look after their little camp when they were hiding out from Azula. It was a different kind of service, he'd concluded; it was borne out of positive emotions instead of negative ones. Zuko was surprised to find out that he was good at doing things like making tea, as long as his heart was content. He'd tried to talk to everyone, joke with them, and prove that he wasn't the surly, anger-filled, angst-ridden enemy he used to be. By now, it seemed that most everyone had at least accepted him, if nothing else to give Aang the shot he needed at becoming a fully realized Avatar. Maybe now that he'd helped rescue two of their loved ones, they'd even begin to like him.

The one exception, of course, was Katara. None of the joy she'd shown when her father showed up at the Western Air Temple had spilled over toward Zuko.

Sokka was still going at full steam as Katara dished up second helpings of lunch for everyone. Hakoda had been pulled from her side again, this time to demonstrate his failed attempt to incite the prisoners to riot. Chit Sang was relishing his lines, stomping his feet as he and Hakoda reenacted their diversionary riot. Taking advantage of her momentary solitude, Zuko grabbed his bowl and Teo's and moved to Katara's side, wondering if he weren't tempting fate. "You seem happier," he murmured to her as she Waterbended stew into each bowl. He watched her hopefully; maybe her icy demeanor toward him could melt a little now that he'd proven something to her.

Katara dropped the stew in Zuko's bowl with more force than necessary, splashing him with the hot liquid. She turned her face away, her brilliant blue eyes staring at the temple's rough stone floor, nostrils flared and her lips pinched. "You brought my father back," she whispered, so low that Zuko couldn't quite be sure that was what she said.

Zuko felt his jaw tighten as he tried to ignore the sensation of the almost-boiling droplets burning his skin. Controlling his anger was a new—and difficult—challenge for him. He had to count to ten before he resisted the urge to say something nasty, the way he would respond if Azula had done such a thing to him. Katara was not Azula. She wasn't a monster. Azula did things to hurt people because she enjoyed watching their pain. Katara was just plain hurting. He arched his neck to get a glimpse of her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," he said quietly, working to keep his tone even.

Katara's face tightened even more, the cords in her neck now showing as she seemed to roil with tension. She took a deep breath and seemed to be trying to calm herself, as well. And then, suddenly, he could see a flash of an expression—he couldn't quite describe it, but she just looked so _vulnerable_. Her face seemed to crumple into a ball of hurt. It was there for only a second; if he'd blinked at the wrong time, he would have missed it. Then her features hardened, and she mumbled into the floor, "You brought my father back."

This was probably the most thanks he would get, Zuko thought resignedly. "Um…no problem," he replied in a low voice. She didn't respond, although her eyes tightened and her hands were now curled into fists. Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, he decided to push his luck. "I hope…maybe…you might consider, well, maybe not being friends, but at least…cordial?" he stammered, cringing as he ended the sentence because her already angry face seemed to get even more twisted.

"Zuko," another voice interrupted; the prince splashed himself with stew again as he started. He looked up at Aang, who was standing over Katara now, looking concerned, his new glider in hand, its wings folded closed so it looked like a plain staff. _Stupid,_ he cursed himself mentally. _She's made it clear what she thinks of you, and you're only going to piss off the rest of them by pushing the point!_

Aang watched his new friend's goldenrod eyes take on that alert, defensive look they got whenever he suspected he might have said the wrong thing to someone in the group. Aang couldn't imagine what the older boy must have been through, growing up among such dysfunctional people that he expected a stab in the back every time he spoke. Zuko had been walking on eggshells, working overtime, and, Aang thought wryly, trying too hard to be good to everyone. Pity didn't help people, he knew from what the monks had taught him. But Aang had to work very hard not to feel sorry for Zuko.

"I think everyone could use a nice cup of tea," Aang said, and watched as Zuko relaxed visibly. He really had expected Aang to tell him off, he marveled. "I think we'll need to scrounge up a few more teacups, though—I'll help." He gestured in the direction of the kitchen building with the tip of his staff.

Zuko gave Teo his bowl; the younger boy rested it on his bandaged legs and watched Suki's deft acrobatics raptly. Zuko placed the other bowl on the floor near Teo's wheelchair and got to his feet. "I'm not going anywhere near that dilapidated place without an Airbender," he said, forcing a smile on his face and a laugh out of his lungs. He glanced around at the others, some of whom were smiling or nodding knowingly. The Duke and Haru had discovered how unstable the kitchen building was; it was near the edge of the cliff from which the Air Temple was suspended, and apparently sustained a lot of damage when the place was first attacked by the Fire Nation. He glanced up at Aang, who was grinning.

"I won't let you down," Aang replied, mock heroism touching his voice. Everyone there knew Zuko was quite capable of taking care of himself.

Still in the middle of playacting the prison riot, Sokka froze in place and motioned for his actors to pause. "Awww," he whined, "I was just getting to the good parts! Aang, you gotta hear what happened once we got to the gondola," he gushed, gesticulating so grandly he almost stepped off the stage and in Zuko's bowl of stew.

"It's okay, Sokka," Aang said placatingly. "I'll catch it from Zuko. These three," he gestured to the newly-released captives, "could really use some tea."

Suki dropped the hulking pose of one of the guards she was impersonating and nodded enthusiastically. "I haven't had good tea since before I was captured. They only gave us watered-down black tea in prison."

It was a testament to how much time Zuko spent with his uncle that he shuddered in genuine horror. "Okay," he said, again forcing a cheerful note to his voice. "It's officially a tea emergency."

"Yeah, tea would be great," Sokka said enthusiastically, fully in support of the idea now that Suki liked it.

Zuko and Aang headed toward the kitchen with murmured thanks from Hakoda and Chit Sang. Zuko glanced back at Katara as they climbed the steps leading toward the outbuilding, but the Waterbender had her back turned—on purpose, it seemed. Rage still radiated from her. If she'd been the opposite kind of Bender, her hair would have spontaneously combusted by now.


	2. Part 2

As soon as they were out of earshot of the rest of the group, Aang stopped and turned around to face Zuko. Again, the older boy flinched, as if he was expecting a slap. Instead, the Avatar's features were gentle. "Thanks for coming with," he said softly. "They've had it rough, and some of that is my fault, so I'd like to make sure they're comfortable."

Zuko frowned, his forehead creasing around his scar, and looked away. "Yeah, no problem," he grumbled, stepping around Aang to continue up the crumbling staircase, his footfalls as light as he could make them.

Aang knew he didn't have to push much more to get Zuko talking—subtly reading people was a skill he was learning from Toph. Around his family, Aang guessed, Zuko couldn't afford to be forthright; in the Fire Nation's politically-charged climate, speaking without calculation could be a fatal weakness. Zuko had told Aang how he was burned and then banished by his own father for daring to contradict someone once. Since joining their group, Zuko seemed almost desperate for someone to talk to, yet anxious about what they'd say. Aang had mostly been the one to supply an open ear, since Katara and Sokka hadn't trusted the Fire Nation prince enough to be alone with him for more than a few minutes. Toph was also willing to chat with Zuko, although Aang suspected her blunt manner, so free of machinations, was difficult for Zuko to take in anything but small quantities. He tied himself in intellectual knots, looking for Toph's ulterior motives, until, at Aang's suggestion, he gave up. Toph was the quintessential Earthbender, and was quite content if she had interesting soil, fun people to be around, and the chance to make frank, often rude comments.

Aang watched Zuko tread carefully up the stone steps, almost sliding into each step, his movements typical of a Firebender's style. His rhythm was off, however; he moved quickly, agitatedly, if lightly. Aang had learned from Toph how to find the exact tipping point of any structure, and people weren't much different. Katara's cooking would do it. "Good stew, huh?" he prodded Zuko.

"Yeah," he agreed absently, trailing a hand along the ancient stonework to his left as he stepped around fallen rocks. Aang felt the change in the vibrations of the rock beneath his feet an instant before Zuko whirled around and brought his fists up to the sides of his head angrily. "I don't get that girl! What's _with_ her? Can't she see I'm _trying_, here?"

Aang, who had narrowly avoided crashing into Zuko thanks to Toph's training, regarded the prince mildly. "She's confused," he replied evenly. He copied Zuko's movements from a moment ago, stepping around him to continue up the stairs, pausing to take in the Firebender's own confused expression before he continued onward. "Wouldn't you be? Her mother was killed in a Fire Nation raid, and her father left not long after to go fight. In a way, the Fire Nation took away both her parents. And then you're the guy who stopped at nothing to track us down. Her brother's life was at risk, then-"

"And I've done _nothing_ but try to prove I'm not that guy anymore!" Zuko interrupted with a hoarse yell, whipping his hands away from his face and gesturing in the air in frustration, his motions resembling the flickering of an agitated flame. "I don't know what else I have to do to make this up to her!"

"You already did," Aang said over his shoulder, his gray eyes knowing, his body relaxed in contrast to Zuko's tense stance. "That's the problem."

Zuko dropped his hands, taken aback. His jaw dropped, his brow furrowed, and he could practically feel sparks coming from his eyes. "That—that makes no _sense_!" he stammered.

"Sure it does," the Airbender countered as he continued to climb, staff in hand. "She was convinced you would turn on us, that you couldn't be trusted. Then you did the last thing she expected you to do—something so good that she has to face the truth: that you're not the bad guy anymore. Maybe she feels like she should have been the one to rescue her dad," Aang added thoughtfully, "but even if that's not the case, she's embarrassed. She was proven completely wrong, and she's the last person to be able to argue against you now."

"So she's taking it out on me?" Zuko demanded gruffly as he dashed to keep up. Aang had reached the roof/floor of one of the buildings and was now headed toward a pathway that had been carved into the cliffside and attached to the kitchen building.

Aang paused to think about it, then shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so," he said. "Katara doesn't like to be embarrassed," he added after a moment.

Zuko felt his newfound control over his anger slipping. "So, there's no way I can win, is there." It wasn't a question. "She's furious if I'm the bad guy, and furious if I'm the good guy. And there's nothing I can do to change her mind."

Aang glanced over his shoulder at the taller boy as he walked. "I wouldn't say that," he protested. "She just…needs time, or something." He sighed. "Maybe I should talk to her."

A thought occurred to Zuko, one that had been on his mind for a while. "You know Katara very well," he commented mildly, watching the other boy's posture carefully.

Aang didn't break his stride as he shrugged. "She was the first person I met when I came up from the ocean." Zuko didn't say anything for a moment; Aang kept walking till curiosity got the better of him. He turned his head slightly and shifted his slate-colored eyes to watch Zuko as he brought up the rear. Zuko's scarred face was furrowed in a frown; his amber eyes were unfathomable as they studied Aang.

Finally, he spoke. "How old are you, Aang?" Zuko asked quietly, his expression unreadable.

Aang got the distinct feeling this was not just about age. He'd noticed Zuko looking at him like this from time to time, typically when Aang had made observations about how things were in the Fire Nation based on stories from Zuko's old life at the palace and his subsequent banishment. Gyatso had looked at him like that sometimes, usually when Aang had done something precocious. It was a look of respect—but also, in a way, regret. As if someone as young as he shouldn't be weighted down with knowledge of how the world worked. "It's hard to say," he replied slowly. Before I went into the ocean, I was twelve, almost thirteen. But I never aged. I guess technically I'm a hundred twelve right now, even if I don't look it—or feel it."

Zuko nodded thoughtfully, following Aang as he reached the portico that surrounded the kitchen on all sides, what would have been the soffit of the roof had the building been built right-side up. The crumbling rock shifted under his feet, but held. "And Katara's what, fourteen, almost fifteen?"

"Yeah," Aang replied, stepping carefully over cracks in the floor as he picked his way toward the doorway of the kitchen, his staff ready to transform into his glider with the flick of his wrist, should the building start to collapse. The kitchen was a large room with several stone countertops and a pool where water had trickled in from above the cliff a century before. Now, the pool was smashed and the flow had dried up. Rusted pots and pans still littered the place, laying where they had been dropped by Airbenders when the Fire Nation had finally found this place. Wooden cabinets lined the walls, their oaken doors bearing the scorch marks of battle, some of them hanging crazily on broken hinges. A wood-brick oven took up an entire corner, perfect for baking cakes, bread, and vegetable-stuffed buns. Light filtered in from holes in the walls, only some of which had originally been windows; there was a constant, soft breeze that filtered through the place, carrying away the slightly charred smell of the remnants of wood in the oven.

"And she's your girlfriend?"

"I wish," Aang replied, preoccupied by testing his weight on the floor before stepping down fully. "She—" He blinked, then whirled around to face his companion. "Hey!"

The older boy snickered, his smile wide enough to crinkle the marred skin over his cheekbone. "While we were on the subject…"

Aang balled his hands into fists; they were thrust down at his sides as he glared at Zuko. "That was mean," he sulked.

Resisting the powerful temptation to guffaw in Aang's face, Zuko stepped around him and made for one of the cupboards. "Aw c'mon, it's not like it's hard to spot."

Aang sucked in a breath to counter that, but blew it out in a huff powerful enough to rearrange Zuko's hair and cause the fragile stone wall opposite him to creak in protest. "Don't say that, please," he groaned, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "It's hard enough."

Pulling open a cupboard, Zuko stifled a laugh, his back hunched with the effort. "I'll bet," he got out before silent laughter took him.

It took Aang a second to catch the double entendre, but Zuko turned in enough time to see the younger boy's round face turn crimson, his blush not stopping till it covered his bald head. He waved his hands wildly in protest, his staff threatening to whack into the unstable cupboard doors. "Ack! Zuko!"

The prince couldn't help it; he chortled so hard he had to clutch a broken-down countertop for support. It was strange, laughing like this so much, but Zuko couldn't help but crack up at his own joke. "You—you should see…" he sniffed, wiping tears from his good eye, "—see your face." He glanced up at Aang, noting the mixture of horror, embarrassment, and a healthy dose of guilt on his face, and then got sucked into another fit of mirth.

"Not funny!" Aang yelled, whirling around to stomp off. Let Zuko stay, let him fall off the cliffside for all he cared. Stupid, insensitive Fire Nation jerk… A sudden thought stopped Aang dead in his tracks, just as Zuko recovered himself. The Airbender whirled around in one of those lightning-fast motions Zuko was still getting used to and glared at him suspiciously, his brow furrowed and his lips tight. "You don't…I mean…the reason you asked isn't…" he trailed off, feeling the blush wash over his face again.

"What?" Zuko demanded, frowning. Realization hit him like a firebolt a second later. "Oh! Ugh no." He shook his head and folded his arms across his chest, disbelieving that Aang could even think such a thing. "Please!" he said, punctuating the word with a sharp roll of his eyes.

It was the wrong reaction. Aang's reddened expression had changed from suspicion and embarrassment to sudden fury. He stepped closer to Zuko, his normally placid gray eyes sparking. "Whatddya mean, 'ugh?'" he demanded angrily, his feet stepping into what Zuko recognized was a fighting stance and his fists balled, one hand gripping his staff tightly.

Zuko's good eye widened; he was so rattled by his furious friend he actually took an involuntary step backward, stumbling over a half-melted copper pot on the floor. The normally peaceful Aang didn't realize how frightening he could be when he was upset; Zuko knew that a minuscule fraction of the Avatar's power would be all it would take to send the building crashing down the cliff around them. As it was, the wind around the building seemed to have picked up; it groaned with the effort of resisting the air current. "No, no!" Zuko protested, holding up his hands in a gesture of innocence. "Not 'ugh' like she's…ugly or anything." Aang snarled at the word. "Katara's very…pretty…" Zuko trailed off, cringing as Aang's face twisted into a different, still livid expression. "No, I didn't mean it like that either! Argh! Every time I talk I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't!"

Aang could feel his pulse pounding beneath his skin and realized he was scaring his friend. He hated it when he did something like this; losing his temper had caused him to lose control before, like in a seaside cave while telling Katara that he'd run away from the Southern Air Temple. The last thing they needed was for him to get so upset he accidentally collapsed the building. Aang forced himself to take in a deep, calming breath, and relax his balled fists and his grip on his staff. "Then what _do_ you mean?" he growled, compelling his voice to stay even.

Zuko watched Aang's sudden change in demeanor and rushed into an explanation before he could get upset again. "Just that I barely know her!" he shouted, throwing up his hands in frustration. "I really only met you guys—for real—a few weeks ago! Besides," he continued, as the truth seemed to register on Aang's strained face, "a Waterbender and a Firebender? That's just…beyond ridiculous." He waved a hand at Aang and shook his head. "That would be like you and Toph."

For a moment, Aang and Zuko each looked up, unwillingly visualizing what the prince had just exclaimed. Toph rolling rocks downhill at Aang for her amusement; Toph picking her nose while wearing a frilly wedding gown at a reluctant Aang's side; Toph bossing around a weary Aang; Toph pointing and laughing at Aang, her phantom chortle echoing in each of their minds…

Their gaze met, and Aang and Zuko each shuddered. Aang crossed one arm across his chest, holding the crook of his elbow while his other hand held his staff in a white-knuckled grip. "No way," he said firmly, almost defiantly.

"Exactly," Zuko agreed, blanching.

Aang put a hand out in consternation, doubling back on what he'd just said, "I mean, I like Toph and all…"

Zuko's eyebrow shot upward and he nodded quickly. "So do I," he said so fast it almost sounded like one word.

Aang looked at him sharply, frowning in suspicion.

The prince scoffed loudly and rolled not only his eyes but his whole head. "You're being ridiculous again!" he cried, rubbing his head with one hand as if to press down the vein in his temple that was throbbing in annoyance. "She was the first in the group to give me a chance," he sneered, drawing out the syllables a little, as if Aang was slow on the uptake.

That seemed to deflate any of Aang's prior annoyance or suspicion. He looked away, scuffing his toe against the degenerating porcelain tile on the floor while both hands loosely gripped his staff. "Yeah," he said, drawing out the word in what Zuko instantly recognized as a tone of remorse. "I never apologized for that, did I?" The Avatar glanced up at his companion, who merely shrugged. Aang continued slowly, "Here I wish Katara would just forgive you and move on, even if I understand why she hasn't…and I didn't even forgive you when you first showed up." He looked down, guilt clearly etched on his face. It felt more damning, somehow, to be admitting such a major breach of Airbender teachings right here at the ruins of one of his people's temples.

Zuko shrugged again, his expression clearly unconcerned. "Honestly, it wasn't as bad as I expected," he admitted, leaning against one of the sturdier-looking stone countertops and studying Aang. "I deserved far worse."

This only seemed to make Aang feel more guilty; the younger boy crossed his free arm across his chest again, clearly haunted by his shame. He shook his head and mumbled, "It doesn't matter. It was really wrong of me."

A thousand comparisons sprang to Zuko's mind as he watched his friend's remorse play out on his earnest face. He used to think Aang was poorer for having had no parents in his life, but in comparison to someone like Azula, who had no remorse at all, it was clear that Airbender teachings were vastly different than those of the Fire Nation. Obviously, Aang had turned out to be the better person. "Well," Zuko said after a moment, struggling to come up with something that would make Aang feel better, "you're only human." Aang shook his head and opened his mouth to disagree, but Zuko interrupted. "You're excusing Katara and yet not yourself?" he challenged Aang hotly.

Aang waved the fingers of his staff hand dismissively. "It's different," he said firmly. "I'm a monk and an Airbender. She's not. I was trained to forgive." He looked up at Zuko, and the prince's comparisons of a moment ago rang true again. The Airbender way of life must have been distinctly dissimilar from the rest of the world, especially the Fire Nation.

"Weird, isn't it?" Zuko murmured, his thoughts still wrapped up in evaluations.

"What, being a monk? Or an Airbender?" Aang regarded him confusedly.

The prince shook his head slowly. "No, Katara's grudges." When the other boy's bewilderment only seemed to deepen, Zuko continued, "For a Waterbender, she sure holds onto them. She's so angry, she'd fit in well among some of my people." He hesitated, wondering if he should tell Aang his next thought. He didn't want him to think he couldn't take care of his own problems; yet he had a suspicion this was the kind of thing Aang wanted to know about his traveling companions in general and Katara in particular. After a few seconds' furious internal back-and-forth debate, Zuko relented. "When I first joined the group," he admitted quietly, "she told me she'd make sure I wouldn't have to worry about my destiny anymore if I hurt you."

Zuko watched as Aang's face went from shocked to horrified, his mouth open in a little round O as his jaw dropped. He stepped forward, both hands gripping his staff. "She said what?" he demanded.

Instantly regretting he'd said anything, Zuko waved a hand placatingly and turned to face the cabinet above the countertop he'd been leaning against. He glanced at Aang, then mumbled toward the broken wooden door before in front of him, "The last time she really spoke to me was right before I betrayed Uncle, attacked her and you, and then Azula almost killed you, so…" He trailed off, shrugging, and looked at Aang helplessly.

The Avatar was rubbing his forehead with the palm of one hand, the other loosely grasping his staff, the tip of which was drooping toward the cabinets lining the gray stone wall. His face was scrunched up in—annoyance? Aggravation? Embarrassment? It was hard to tell. "Ugh, now I _really_ gotta talk to her. That was _so_ wrong of her to say."

The prince took a step toward Aang, his arms instinctively outstretched to grab him by the shoulders, but he stopped himself midway and dropped his hands. He shook his head vehemently. "Don't. Please don't." When Aang opened his mouth to protest, Zuko interrupted. "I understand why she said it. Besides, I don't know her well, but I'm a hundred-ten percent positive that will make things worse for me instead of helping!"

Aang looked tormented. "She's not always like that!" He dropped his staff so it leaned against the countertop and wrung his hands. "She's…well I can't say she doesn't have a temper, she fought Master Pakku because she was angry, but she was right in that case! And I know she gets protective, but I think it's because she lost her mother and is afraid to lose anyone else!" His dusky eyes pleaded for understanding as he stepped closer to Zuko. "Most of the time she's very caring and warm and nice and—"

The prince had to steel himself against chuckling at his friend. He couldn't stop a grin from cracking his features, though. "Yes, yes, I get it. Love of your life, and all." He flapped a hand dismissively and went back to leaning against the countertop.

Groaning resignedly, Aang rubbed his tattooed forehead again. "Just don't say that around anyone else, okay?" he glanced up at Zuko nervously. The other boy nodded gravely. "I'd never hear the end of it from Toph and Sokka will just want to run me through with his space sword. And…things are complicated with Katara," he admitted, his voice dropping to a murmur as he looked down at the smashed tiles at his feet.

Rubbing his chin, Zuko considered what Aang had said. "I dunno, I think Sokka might be okay with it." Aang looked up, about to object, but Zuko beat him to it. "Both Sokka and Katara have seemed relatively mature about issues like falling in love. I haven't heard Katara giving him hell over Suki, and as you and I both know, Katara's not the type to hold back." He grinned wryly.

The Airbender moved pebbles of porcelain with the toe of his shoe, making little scraping noises as the ceramic pieces scraped against each other, their faded colored glaze chipping away. "I dunno, Zuko, I didn't have siblings, but from what I've seen I think it's a little different for a guy compared to his sister. You think Katara's protective, you should see Sokka when he gets going." His brow furrowed and his face burned in shame as he remembered his first time Firebending, when Sokka had screamed at him over burning Katara's hands. Before that, Sokka had dragged Katara off and left him to travel north alone when he'd discovered how Aang had kept Bato's map to their father from them.

Zuko thought about this, pursing his lips and arching his sole eyebrow in thought. He crossed one arm across his chest, cupping his elbow while his other hand rubbed his chin. "I can't shake the feeling that Sokka knows, though. That he's known for some time how you feel about her. He seems—" he shrugged, "I dunno, _comfortable_ with you two together." Aang shrugged back, still not looking up at his friend. "Well, far be it for me to judge. Like I said, I don't know Katara that well. I feel like I know Sokka a lot better, though, now."

"Sokka…gets mad quicker…but I think he forgives faster, too," Aang said thoughtfully, still looking away from Zuko. "He didn't take it so hard that we had to travel through the Fire Nation, but Katara did. I could see things were getting harder on her the further we got into Fire Nation territory. She hid it well from the others, but like you said, I know her well. The more she had to spend time pretending to be a good citizen of the Fire Nation, the more she simmered." He finally looked up, his expression frustrated and sad. "You're the perfect outlet."

Zuko shrugged away from the countertop and started opening cabinet doors, looking for teacups. "Great," he muttered into the shards of ceramic and earthenware strewn across the half-broken shelves. "Well, at least I know a little better what makes her tick." He nodded at Aang, who had taken up his staff and was now copying the prince's search. "Thanks, by the way. She's going to hate me forever, but at least I understand a little better why."

_[Please continue to Part 3]_


	3. Part 3

Aang couldn't help but regret Zuko's sullen tone. He closed one cabinet door carefully and cracked open another, stepping back as dust and shards of broken crockery rained down to the counter below. After a moment, he glanced at his friend and asked, "That's important to you, isn't it? Having people like you?"

The Fire Nation prince took his time, setting aside a chipped, but largely intact, blue mug gingerly. He winced, feeling awkward, and spoke hesitantly. "Not everyone, just you and your group. I never…had friends. Not really. I hung out with my cousin Lu Ten when he was alive, but he was in the military and didn't get to come home much. Then he died when I was a kid. Azula was always a freak, and most of the time, all I had to hang out with were her and her friends, Ty Lee and Mai. Azula would play games just to develop new ways to be cruel to people. Ty Lee and Mai were better; at least Mai didn't boss me around or try to juggle daggers around my head for her own amusement. But they were all I had.

"So it's weird to try to make friends with people. But…" he trailed off, struggling to put his thoughts into words. He ran a hand through his disheveled, jet black hair, streaking it with pottery dust. Finally, he shrugged and looked at Aang, something kindling behind his tawny eyes. "I like it. I used to think friends were people who wielded the swords you handed them, but not anymore." He ignored Aang's unfathomable look at that statement. "I was mystified by your group at first, back when I was chasing you. I thought Katara and Sokka were with you just to try to buddy up to the all-powerful Avatar," he admitted. Aang froze in the middle of pulling an intact cup down, dumbstruck. His expression was mortified, but Zuko just shrugged. "Another way I was wrong about all of you. After I betrayed Uncle and Azula almost killed you, I thought a lot about all of you. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't kinda jealous of you at that point, and how loyal your group is to each other. I saw how Azula kept Ty Lee and Mai under her thumb, and the difference was glaring, once I knew to look for it."

Shaking his head, Aang placed the cup he'd found next to Zuko's, and moved on to another cabinet. The door hung haphazardly from one bent hinge; as soon as Aang touched it, the metal broke, sending the heavy piece of wood hurtling toward the floor. He caught it before it hit the shattered tiles, but barely—a testament to how disturbed he was by Zuko's words. Setting the door aside delicately, mindful of the fragility of the building they were standing in, he moved cracked and shattered bowls aside, searching for a third cup. A thought occurred to him as the pair worked silently, something about the way Zuko talked about Azula's friends.

"Ty Lee and Mai," he murmured. "Those are the two girls who were helping Azula chase us down?"

Zuko glared into the cabinet he was now exploring and angrily swept aside the dried remains of a family of mice. "It's not like they had much choice!" he said defensively. "I know how Azula operates. Ty Lee was really happy at the circus, but Azula took that away from her. Mai was bored out of her mind in Omashu and never knew how to stand up to Azula." He glanced at Aang, his face both angry and pleading. "It was never anything personal."

Aang, fighting to keep a grin off his face as Zuko's reaction confirmed his suspicions, nodded. "I believe you." He folded his arms, one hand rubbing his chin in thought. "Mai…serious face, flowing clothes, flying daggers, really fast?"

Zuko resumed searching, his hands closing on a third intact teacup; it had once been painted a kelly green, but it was now faded with age, the color chipped off in places. He smiled to himself, and there was a tone to his voice that Aang thought he recognized—not in Zuko, but in himself. "Yeah, she's fast." The prince looked at Aang wryly. "And that's saying something, coming from an Airbender."

Amused, Aang grinned back. "Yeah, don't tell her though. I'm sure she still thinks I kidnapped her brother."

"Nah," Zuko disagreed, dumping pottery shards out of the cup he'd found. "She told me herself that the kid wanders away if he doesn't have two nursemaids giving him their undivided attention at all times." He studied the teacup in his hands, his fingers absently brushing dirt off the faded emerald glaze, and said fondly, "He's smart and fast, like his sister. She suspected you brought him back." He glanced at Aang, who looked happy at his words. Zuko's features twisted into a scowl, though, as he explained, "Her parents never treated her with love—real love, not just valuing her as a pawn to be used for political gain—but she does care about the baby in her own way."

Aang's training with Toph was kicking in again; he could sense emotions roiling under the surface in his companion. He picked up one of the cups in his hand, the blue one Zuko had found a moment before. "You're worried about her," he observed, copying Zuko's motions as he wiped dust off its dull surface with his fingers.

The look on the prince's face told Aang all he needed to know. Zuko put down the green cup and rested his elbows on the counter before him, burying his face in his grimy hands. "None of us would have escaped the Boiling Rock without Mai." Without looking up, he resumed the story Sokka had been telling the group, explaining how Mai had prevented them from dropping into the scorching water surrounding the prison by protecting the cables that held the gondola up, how she'd stopped the guards from executing a direct order from Azula that would have gotten them all killed. He told Aang what he saw of Mai's confrontation with Azula from afar; he hadn't heard the words that were spoken, but he saw Ty Lee attack Azula before everyone had pulled him onto the airship.

Aang listened gravely, feeling the anguish his friend felt almost as acutely as if it were his own. All the rescued prisoners, as well as Sokka and Zuko, looked tired but jubilant as they'd arrived at the temple. But it had been close, very close—Aang hadn't realized just how close he'd been to losing several good friends. And if it were Katara in that same situation as Mai…he didn't want to think about it. Zuko pulled his head away from his hands a little, his face twisted with horror, exacerbating the deformity of his scar. Aang hadn't really appreciated how much older than he Zuko was, but his friend looked even older than his true age right then. "No one disobeys Azula, not if they want to live," the prince whispered hoarsely. "Azula can kill someone with her lightning in a second. I can redirect it, but Mai's not a Bender. Even if she survived an attack, she'd surely be arrested for trying to assassinate the princess. I don't know if she got out of disobeying Azula alive, and if she did, what kind of torture she's endured. I keep hoping that the combination of Mai's uncle being the warden and the fact that her parents are so well-regarded by my father will help her, but Azula's gonna have to do _something_ terrible to her, just to save face."

Placing the faded navy cup on the counter, Aang stepped closer to Zuko, reaching up to place a hand on the prince's shoulder. Zuko was staring straight ahead, unseeing, his face bleak and his fists balled on the countertop in front of him. "If Ty Lee attacked Azula, she probably stopped her bending," he said gently. "Katara said once Ty Lee touched her, she couldn't move water at all. We know how good she is at hitting pressure points, so I'm sure she was able to stop Azula before she did anything to Mai."

Zuko closed his eyes and ducked his head, his face desolate, his whole body feeling wretched. "It's just…after Azula recovered…that I'm worried about," he said, forcing the words out of his reluctant lungs and throat. Speaking his fears out loud seemed to make them more real, and that much more crushing.

"We have to hope," Aang said quietly and confidently. "We have to be strong for her."

Zuko turned to him, anguish etched on his scarred face. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it several times silently. "I don't know how," he finally admitted, whispering. "I've lost hope before, but this—this is different."

"Because you love her," Aang guessed, his voice gentle.

"Yeah."

The pair was silent for a moment, Aang simultaneously marveling at his friend's calmness at admitting his feelings and empathizing with Zuko over his pain. All Aang could hear was the light whooshing of air currents around the building; he wished the sound was as soothing to Zuko as it was to him. He removed his hand and rested both elbows on the countertop, facing the same direction Zuko was. Finally, he spoke, choosing his words carefully. "I believe—and the monks believed this too—that all life is connected. I met a man once, a Waterbender who lived in a swamp, who was enlightened. The way he talked, you could tell he just knew that space and time are an illusion. I saw what he meant that day; I was able to see via the plants in the swamp to find Appa and Momo, who were lost and in trouble." Zuko's bleak expression didn't change, although his amber eyes slid to the side to gaze at Aang. The Airbender took a deep breath and stated, "I believe that if you're strong for Mai, she'll know it, and it will help her."

For a long time, neither said anything. Aang watched as Zuko took in what he'd said, his features eventually melting from their forlorn mask into a more pensive expression. "Uncle once told me that hope is something you give yourself in the most desperate times. That's the meaning of inner strength."

Aang nodded. "I talked to your uncle once," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward into a lopsided smile. "He was very wise."

Emotions washed over Zuko's face like waves as the tide comes in. "He's another person I'm worried about," he admitted. He had already told Aang what he'd seen when he escaped the Fire Nation palace and tried to break Iroh out of prison. The former general wasn't there; the walls were scorched and broken; the guards were barely coherent.

"Then we'll have to be strong for him, too," Aang said firmly. "The best way to honor him, no matter where he is or what he's doing, is to live by his teachings."

Zuko gazed at Aang for a moment, his eyes lingering on the tattoos visible on his head and hands. Zuko had done his research while searching for the Avatar after his banishment. He knew an Airbender's arrows indicated mastery. He hadn't realized they also indicated a fair bit of wisdom. "The worst thing about a lot of this," he said slowly, "is that I don't know when I'll be able to see them again, to apologize for all the mistakes I've made." His face crumpled in pain. "I don't know how they'll ever be able to forgive me."

Again and again, Aang had to work to keep himself from feeling sorry for Zuko. _Pity doesn't help people,_ he repeated to himself three times before speaking. "They'll forgive you because you're worth forgiving," he said calmly, ignoring Zuko's scoff and the incredulous look he shot him. "No, I'm serious," he continued, shaking his head. "Look, we were enemies up till a few weeks ago, right? Yet I can see you're a good person. And it's not just me—I already said I'm trained to forgive. But Toph saw it too, before any of us. I think Sokka knows it as well, otherwise he wouldn't have started to trust you. Katara…well, she'll come around…eventually." Aang turned to his friend, resting one arm on the counter. "Besides, at least in Mai's case, what happened wasn't your fault. It sounds like there was no way to save her. She's your girlfriend—she should be willing to forgive."

Instead of looking comforted, Aang's words only seemed to trouble Zuko more. "That's not it," he countered, his voice tight. "She…_was_ my girlfriend," he admitted, shamefaced.

There was a short pause as Aang's brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait, was? I kind of assumed she rescued you because…well…" he trailed off, utterly perplexed.

"I broke up with her before I left," Zuko admitted sullenly. He sighed and started rubbing his forehead with one hand. "Well, it's the second time I broke up with her. But the first time I was just being a stupid ass, and we were back together a few hours later. In any event, both times she wasn't happy with me."

Flabbergasted, Aang just stared at his friend. Here he was struggling with his love for Katara; Zuko seemed to have the kind of relationship with Mai that Aang wanted with Katara, and yet he had just admitted to throwing it away. "But…you…love her! Why would you do something like that?" he blurted out incredulously, wide-eyed.

"I was turning traitor, in effect," Zuko replied miserably. "Well, I don't see it that way, but I knew everyone else would. I don't want to drag her into any of that. There's a war going on; it's not exactly the best time to sort these things out."

Aang shook his head slowly, turning back to the counter and resting both elbows on it. He said slowly, "War or no war, if you love her, you love her. I just don't get it, letting war get in the way. I don't know if I ever could."

It was Zuko's turn to look incredulous. "Well, you're kind of going through it now, right? You said things were complicated with Katara."

This was…Aang struggled to think of the word to describe how he felt. Surreal, he decided. He was discussing his love life with a guy who was his mortal enemy less than a month ago. He barely understood his situation with Katara as it was, much less how to put it into words. "Yeah," he said lamely.

Talking about Aang's plight seemed to help distract Zuko from his own pain. "How so?" he probed unceremoniously.

Aang ground the heel of his hand into his forehead, just above his right eye, as if to massage away a monstrous headache. Zuko apparently understood Toph better than he thought he did; he was getting into Toph-level bluntness about a delicate topic. Grimacing, he replied, "I dunno. It's just…different." He pulled his hand from his head and stared down at the countertop, muttering almost to himself, "I was right when I told Katara before the invasion that things would be different."

"Why did you tell her that?"

Aang absently twirled a finger, stirring up little air currents that made tiny tornadoes in the dust on the stone surface in front of him. "Well, I thought I was going off to defeat your father. At least, I was going to try. And if I succeeded…" He trailed off, seeming reluctant to put his thoughts into words. He glanced up at Zuko but saw nothing but honest curiosity.

And suddenly, Aang wanted his friend to know how he felt. He wanted to just be honest with someone, someone who wouldn't tease him or give him a hard time or get angry with him. Someone a little older, perhaps, who might know a little better what to do. Someone who wouldn't expect him to know what to do—Aang was the Avatar, but he was still only twelve, a fact forgotten by a lot of people, both in this century and the last. Aang had had many friends before he ran away, some of them older and wiser, and not for the first time did he feel a little bereft without them. Weeks ago, he had realized that Zuko was meant to be his Firebending teacher. Now, he understood that Zuko was meant to be one of his best friends.

Sucking in a breath, Aang turned to face Zuko. There was a fierceness tucked beneath the surface of his slate-colored eyes, as if he'd come to a decision about something. The words spilled from his mouth, as if a dam had broken. "If I succeeded in defeating the Firelord, we wouldn't need to travel so much after that. We've been traveling together since I first woke up. I thought…maybe…we could, well, be together after I won, but I just couldn't put all this into words at the invasion. Instead, I asked Katara what if I didn't come back, and she didn't really seem to like that question. Before she could really answer, though, I…I kissed her." His face got redder and redder the more he spoke; by now he was sporting a healthy blush across his cheekbones.

Zuko pursed his lips while he listened, and raised his eyebrow as soon as Aang stopped, searching for words. It was almost like something out of a play written by the Ember Island Players: the hero kissing the girl dramatically before he left to conquer the wicked villain. He was impressed at the younger boy's maturity; Zuko wasn't sure how many almost-thirteen-year-olds would be confident enough to do many of the things Aang had done, including kissing a girl like that. "What did she do?" he asked, realizing in the back of his mind that his questions were bordering on nosiness. But he couldn't help it—Aang just looked so lost.

Aang shrugged, flushing even deeper. "Kissed back, pretty much," he replied, and paused, unable to keep the corners of his mouth turning upward at the memory of Katara's soft mouth against his, however briefly it had lasted. Zuko smirked, amused. Aang continued with a sigh, "Then I had to go find the Firelord. It _was_ different, afterward. I didn't expect to fail and come back alive. It was pretty much either-or." The words were coming faster now, the look in his eyes getting a little frantic. "I'd hoped the next time I saw her, I'd have won and everything would be much less complicated. But it didn't work out that way, and now things are kind of awkward. I don't know if it's because I failed, or because her father was captured because I failed, or because everyone's just tired and worried and without a plan, or if she changed her mind—"

Aang broke off and looked up at his friend, desperation now evident on his face. "What if she just kissed me because she didn't really think I was going to come back? She started to tell me not to talk like that, but maybe she was just saying that to make me feel better." Aang turned away, clutching his head with his hands and gesturing wildly, his usual calm teetering on the edge, ready to disappear completely as he rambled, barely stopping to take a breath. "What if she doesn't like me, y'know, that way at all? I mean, she used to say I was like a little brother to her before we got to the North Pole! But then we kissed in the caves under Omashu, and it was her suggestion, but I really messed it up and made it sound like I didn't want to, but then we ran out of torches and the poems said love would lead the way, so maybe she just did it because she wanted to get out of there? I was going to tell her that I care about her after we got our fortunes told and before we split up before Ba Sing Se fell, but I didn't get the chance. Speaking of fortune-tellers, Aunt Wu said Katara would marry a powerful Bender, which I thought might be me, but that's probably just wishful thinking! And then we were going around the Fire Nation in disguise looking for a teacher, and we had that dance for the students in the cave, and I danced with her, and she looked like she was having fun, but maybe it's just cause we were doing some Waterbending stuff—y'know, only without the water, and she was just having fun cause we were doing Waterbending right in the middle of the Fire Nation?" He exhaled in a huge huff, sending dust and crockery shards skittering into the far corners of the kitchen building.

By now, Zuko had crossed one arm over his chest, three fingers of his other hand now massaging his temple and jawline on the good side of his face. He could only follow flashes of what Aang had said once he really got going. "Okay, hold it. You're talking yourself in circles." Aang looked at him, his posture slumped and his face desolate. Zuko had never seen him upset like this. He sighed, wondering if this was what it would have been like to have a younger brother. Well, perhaps not, he thought wryly; chances are, any additional siblings would have been just as power-mad as Azula. Shaking his head to return his attention to the desperate Airbender before him, he muttered, "Far be it for me to try to get into Katara's head. You were just now telling me how she feels 'cause I don't have a clue."

"I don't have a clue either!" Aang groaned loudly.

"Well," Zuko reasoned, "she's female, and therefore it's hard to know what she wants." He paced a little among the counters, his voice huffy with annoyance. "It's like this little game they play, just to see if you're paying enough attention to them."

Aang's ash-colored eyes widened, his jaw dropping a little in utter panic. "This is a _game_ to her? _I'm_ just a game to her?" he half-demanded, half-moaned.

"No! Yes, but no." Zuko swung toward a horrified Aang mid-pace and held out a hand. "Wait, just…stop. Hear me out." He took a deep breath. The Airbender before him didn't look any calmer—in fact, he was starting to look a little green. "I didn't know how Mai felt either, y'know, about me," he admitted, feeling a blush creep up on his face. He scowled. "She kept dropping these deadpan, maddening little hints and I had no idea how to take any of them."

At that moment, Aang felt an almost irrationally strong camaraderie with his friend. "Yeah, she must be hard to read. She seems so cool and serious all the time."

"Tell me about it," Zuko agreed fervently. His face now somewhere in the vicinity of the same hue as his robe, he folded his arms across his chest and looked away. Aang had opened up to him; it was only fair he do the same. "I finally got so fed up I just took her aside and asked her directly."

There was a long pause, in which Aang's gray eyes widened till they seemed bigger than saucers. Awestruck, his voice full of respect, he asked, "What exactly did you ask her?"

Zuko didn't know which made him more uncomfortable—talking openly about something so personal or the fact that he seemed to have achieved a heretofore unimaginable level of respect in Aang's view. He shifted his feet and nudged a misshapen pot on the floor with his toe as he admitted, "Well…whether she liked me or not."

Aang's supremely impressed expression took on a calculating edge. It looked as if he was suddenly taking mental notes. "Okay, ask her. Directly," he repeated.

Resisting the sudden urge to laugh, Zuko grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. "She said yes, and I said I did too, and that was about it."

"Wow…" Aang whispered. He frowned and looked away, concentrating, visualizing himself being so direct with Katara. He looked up at the prince a moment later, his face about as crimson as Zuko's had been a moment before. "You make this sound really easy," he commented.

Shrugging, Zuko ran a hand through his hair to tame it back down. "It wasn't," he countered, "but I figured if I didn't do it this way, I'd be guessing forever, and it was driving me nuts." The prince's amber eyes softened, while his face became brooding, pensive. "Mai's about the only thing that's gone even remotely right in my life," he said quietly.

"You'll see her again," Aang promised, his confidence stronger than Zuko felt. "You have to hold onto hope. She'll know you haven't given up on her."

Reluctantly, Zuko nodded slowly. "I know you're right…it's just…hard," he said brokenly.

_[Please continue to Part 4]_


	4. Part 4

For a moment, the two boys stared into space, each wrapped in his own thoughts. The wind gushed against the side of the building, its sound as comforting as any gently bubbling stream or the warmth of a sunny day.

Finally, Aang broke the relative silence. "So…I just have to find a good time to ask Katara directly if she…has feelings for me. Like I do for her," he said hesitantly.

Zuko shrugged and nodded. "That's pretty much it."

"Oh good," Aang added, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "I wouldn't want to add anything difficult to this."

Laughing, Zuko stepped over to the counter where their cups lay and gathered them into his arms. "We'd better get back with these teacups before they think we've fallen off the cliff or something."

The two boys left the kitchen building silently, Aang holding his staff at the ready in case the disintegrating stone staircase gave way, Zuko cradling crockery in his arms. The magnificent Airbender temple buildings slid slowly past them, the upside-down edifices both majestic in their design yet humble in their chipped, battered state. The Fire Nation had almost destroyed this place, and as Zuko gazed about, he resolved that if he ever became Firelord, he'd do something to help restore the place. It was the least he could do.

"Hey, Zuko?" Aang asked, interrupting the prince's thoughts.

Glancing over his shoulder, Zuko replied," Yeah?"

"Thanks for all the advice," Aang said quietly.

Smiling, Zuko nodded. "Same to you. If I can get Katara to stop hating me, I'll feel a bit better about crashing the group to teach you Firebending."

"You shouldn't feel bad about it at all," Aang protested, looking at his friend reproachfully. "I'm glad you joined us." He paused, then said quietly, "You're a good friend, Zuko."

It was irrational, embarrassing, and Zuko fought it fiercely, but the sudden swell of emotion at Aang's words threatened to overwhelm him. He kept his face pointed forward and his eyes studiously on the rough surface of the rock to his side until he could trust his voice again. "Thanks," he whispered. "You too."

Aang smiled. His relationship with Katara was still complex, but at least he didn't have to worry about Zuko as a strong friend. Defeating the Firelord was an instrumental part of the peace Aang was intended to bring to the world, but at that moment, Aang's friendship with Zuko seemed more important than anything else. What good would it do the world if the replacement Firelord was just as much a war-monger? As much as Aang's stomach twisted at the thought of facing the super-powerful Ozai, he had to maintain hope that the world would be a better place for a long time coming, if he managed to replace the Firelord with his son.

"C'mon," Aang said, his face serene—for now. "Let's make those guys some tea," he said, matching his stride to Zuko's as the older boy hurried forward.

Grinning as he quoted his uncle, Zuko agreed. "Yes, let's make some tea."

Together, the two friends joined the rest of the group, serving them with hearts that were, for the time being, content.

[-_fin_-]

_Author's notes:_

_Whew, this one took forever to write. I started it as part of a series of vignettes that were intended to be no more than 10 pages, and it grew to a mini-episode, or at least a very, very long scene. I like writing vignettes that fill gaps in a story because I like piecing together characters' motivations from one episode or event to the next. I wanted to set up two things in this story to bolster the anime in my thoughts, to give my take on what motivated Aang and Zuko to take certain steps with regard to Katara. _

_This story takes place between "The Boiling Rock," when Katara gets her father back, and "The Southern Raiders," when Katara almost gets her revenge. Even though "The Boiling Rock" is focused on other characters, I feel the most important thing about it overall is how it set up a crucial change in Katara. She was actually the first in the group to trust Zuko, in the crystal caves under Ba Sing Se. Zuko's betrayal wounded her deeply; how could someone so similar—who also lost a mother to the ruthlessness of the Fire nation—betray a person who is hurting in such a viscerally similar way? The journey of forgiveness is an aspect of hope, something the writers of _Avatar_ undoubtedly wanted to teach. _

_In my story, Aang tells Zuko that saving Hakoda was "…the last thing she expected you to do—something so good that she has to face the truth: that you're not the bad guy anymore." It points out a turning point for Katara. Zuko's actions are a niggling, irritating seed of doubt to her; subsequent crucial actions on Katara's part, from trusting him to help her track down her mother's murderer to standing up for him against his sister, are a direct result of this first chink in Katara's hostile armor. There is a satisfying poetic symmetry in the way that the Fire Nation took away Katara's mother, yet Zuko brought her largely absent warrior father back to her. The rest of the story would have been missing a crucial chunk of its overall message (hope is a key element of an honorable life) if Katara had not forgiven Zuko. _

_The second thing I wished to set up in this story was the crucial scene of "The Ember Island Players_."_ The subject of what Katara meant when she said she was confused could fill entire message boards, but I'll leave that to a future vignette. What's important here is where Aang got the idea to ask her in the first place. The anime just didn't have enough time to explore a few key things in my mind. There's the nature of Aang and Zuko's friendship; if Aang's future victory against the Firelord is to mean anything, he and Zuko must become strong allies to prevent war from breaking out all over again. Aang is very young, despite others' perceptions of him, and he wants and needs the guidance of someone older than him. Sokka often fills that role, but I thought it important to show Zuko taking on an older brother role, himself. Furthermore, Zuko's relationship with Aang is everything that was impossible in his relationship with Azula, his blood sibling. I thought it only just to give Zuko someone more positive to essentially replace Azula, since the story already does such a great job of replacing Ozai with Iroh as Zuko's true father figure. _

_I also wanted to explore Zuko's fear and grief over Mai; I felt that did not get enough (any) airtime. I can easily envision how Mai would quickly become essential to the peace of the Fire Nation after Ozai's defeat; she seems to be a good counter to Zuko's brooding ways and someone who can keep him level-headed through turmoil. She's good for him, and I wanted to highlight more of their relationship because I feel it is a positive one._

_Lastly, I wanted to stress the idea that hope is worthwhile, even when it is hardest to hang on to, because it is a central theme of the story. Hope is the concept that ultimately binds the cast of good guys together; it is when Zuko finally begins to understand hope that he finds the right path. It's a very "grown-up" topic for what is billed a kids' show, but the writers were ingenious in their ability to teach a positive lesson without beating people over the head with it. _

_And of course I just wanted to have fun with characters I've come to love. I'll stop rambling now; thanks for reading and please leave feedback/reviews!_


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